


Duende

by Ferus_Domina



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Gay Character, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:51:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4076785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferus_Domina/pseuds/Ferus_Domina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duende: An unusual power to attract or charm</p>
<p>Dorian has found himself unusually attracted to a certain Qunari. He knows what he wants (or so he thinks) but he's not quite sure he wants to go for it yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duende

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swevene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swevene/gifts).



Dorian was, to put it simply, unused to being quite this attracted to someone. Oh, it had happened before, there would be some attractive man who turned his head and he'd feel that familiar heat. Of course, it was simple enough to take care of, and that was usually all it was, attraction to his smile, or the curve of his neck, something simply solved in a back room or in a few discrete visits. But there was something different about the Iron Bull. The Qunari had not been wrong when he'd said that Dorian was attracted to the forbidden, but that wasn't the whole of it either.

 

He watched the Iron Bull as he walked, talking and laughing with the Inquisitor, the way the muscles of his back moved and his arms as he shifted the weight of his massive axe that rested over his shoulder. _These big muscled hands could hold you down as you struggled, helpless in my grip._ That had been a mental image that he hadn't been ready for, but it was one that had stuck and made it difficult for him to sleep at night.

 

Just as he was thinking it, Iron Bull turned and looked at him, that single eye all but twinkling as he smirked at the mage. Dorian just scowled, looking intently at the landscape. As if he was going to give the Qunari the satisfaction. By the time he had looked back at the direction they were going, the Iron Bull was facing away from him again, though he could have sworn there was an extra bit of swagger to his steps. Dorian was unsure if the Qunari was just messing with him, or if he actually had some idea of what the mage had been thinking. Dorian had thought he was better at hiding his feelings than that, but evidently he still needed some work, since the Qunari seemed to be able to read him like an open book.

 

Fortunately for him, the Exalted Plains were not a place that allowed for very much quiet contemplation, and it was only a few moments later that they were met by a pack of the possessed wolves that seemed to roam all over the blasted landscape. And because terrible things always happened in multiples, when Dorian followed the last, panicked wolf around the corner of a ruined building (stupid of him, in hindsight) only to be faced by a rage demon, a terror demon, and two wraiths. “Kaffas...” he of course did the sensible thing and ran back the way he'd come, only to run smack into the wall of gray flesh that was the Iron Bull.

 

“You sure are coming back in a hurry...” There was a teasing chuckle in his voice that Dorian... well he would just have to enjoy it later.

 

“Of course I am, you oaf. There's a pack of demons back there.” He glared up at the Qunari, who fortunately had the good sense not to make fun of or doubt him. Which would have been extremely difficult as one of the rage demons followed him round the corner with a roaring screech. And then it was fire and demon blood and roaring for several more minutes before Dorian froze the last of the demons and Iron Bull smashed it with his axe.

 

Dorian had a moment to appreciate the view as Iron Bull wiped off his axe before the quiet sound of a throat being cleared interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see Livina Cadash smiling up at him, the dwarf's unsettlingly green eyes twinkling as she put her bow away. “Stare too much longer and he's going to notice. If he already hasn't.” He opened his mouth to protest that he had not been staring, but then the dwarf was making the rounds of their fallen enemies, collecting whatever unnerving little body parts Helisma was always requesting that they bring back.

 

At least the warning meant that he was decidedly not staring at the Iron Bull when he finished his quiet conversation with Cassandra. He preferred not to even think about the teasing he would get if Bull caught him at it. Or not teasing perhaps, more like lewd suggestions as to what exactly he could do instead of just look.

He took first watch that night, which was something of a relief as he set wards around the camp. It felt as though Bull hadn't stopped watching him, which meant of course that every time the mage had happened to look in his direction, the big Qunari's eyes were already on him. Bull would grin, flex those rippling muscles, and Dorian would roll his eyes or groan as he found the scenery suddenly much more interesting. Not that it made it easy to stop thinking about him, those huge hands and the way his muscles flexed when he moved. The thought of those hands holding him down wasn't one that he was able to dismiss easily. He let himself indulge in them a bit now, his wards were in place, the night was quiet, what could it harm?

 

He could only imagine those rough hands on him, pulling clothing aside in his haste, the way buckles and belts would protest and pull against his skin, robes shoved roughly out of the way or torn away entirely and that gravelly voice in his ear. Dorian shivered at the thought of being shoved against a wall or over his desk, the press of a cock against his ass (he might have seen more than he ever meant to once when Iron Bull was bathing, he knew precisely how large the Qunari was.) He could feel himself getting hard under his leathers, though he did his best to ignore any urges. He was in the middle of nowhere, yes, but he was hardly going to do something as hideously inappropriate as stroke himself off, he was still a civilized human being.

 

Of course that stray thought soon wended its way to another fantasy, this one of Iron Bull dragging him behind a bush somewhere, making sure he stayed quiet as he fucked him. It was savage of course, and something he would have steadfastly denied he had even thought of. But he was, and this really was not making his turn at watch any easier on the concentration front. If he hadn't had his hand clenched in the fabric of his robes he probably would have been touching himself by now.

 

The quiet, rough chuckle next to his ear could almost have come from the depths of his imagination, but the voice most certainly wasn't. “Look like you could use a little help there, mage.” Dorian's eyes flew open as he turned, bringing himself to his feet in a motion that was much smoother than he felt at the moment.

 

“Vishante kaffas, Bull! Are you trying to get your face roasted off?” Thank the Maker he hadn't been doing anything embarrassing other than having a few fantasies, and that it was dark enough that surely Iron Bull couldn't see the way his cheeks flushed. But Dorian had the sinking feeling that he could.

 

Iron Bull just chuckled, shrugging as he gave the mage a once over. “Your watch is over. I'm replacing you. Though... if you want to stay out here with me... I'm sure we could pass some time.” The grin was lewd at best.

 

Dorian glared, holstering his staff. “Why would I want to do something like that? Now, if you'll excuse me, my tent is waiting.” He went to walk past Bull, only to have a hand settle on his shoulder. He looked up, and up into that single bright eye that Dorian was suddenly quite sure knew every single dirty fantasy he'd ever had about Iron Bull.

 

“Alright then, get some sleep. But if you have trouble getting there, just let me know.” Bull grinned and then the hand was gone and he was settling down on the rock Dorian had abandoned in his haste.

 

Dorian didn't say another word, he wasn't sure he could manage something just then that wasn't spluttering and not nearly as dignified as he wanted it to be. Instead he went to his tent and tied the flap shut securely, kicking off his boots and climbing into his bedroll, hoping that sleep would find him soon. It eventually did, but only after he had stroked himself to completion, hastily slicked fingers pressing inside his body and his mouth turned down into the ground to muffle himself as best he could. The whole time he imagined grey hands on his body, and a rough voice laughing in his ear.

 


End file.
